Chase my Pain Away
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: Abby helps a sick McGee
1. Chapter 1

McGee had been feeling tired and moody ever since he left NCIS the night before, Tony making it a point to point out that fact whenever he saw him, and the slight headache he woke up with wasn't helping his mood. Plus, the Tylenol he had taken that morning were not helping one bit.

Getting outside, to a new crime scene, helped clear his head some. Until the traffic jam. Each time Ziva leaned into the horn, the shrill sound sent a new spike of pain through Tim's head. He tried to push it away, tried to ignore it, and actually managed it for a while.

In fact, he actually thought he kicked the headache, until Tony snapped his picture. The flash pierced his eyes, the throbbing returning full force, and it took all of McGee's will power not to groan in pain. His stomach churned as he stumbled out of the house, shielding his eyes from the nearly blinding sunlight.

He crossed the lawn, a wave of lightheadedness nearly sending to the ground. He leaned forward, hand pressed into the bark, breathing deeply through his nose. Slowly, the lightheadedness and nausea passed. He picked his head up, the sun shining innocently back at him. He shook his head once, heading toward the van, nearly running into Ziva.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"It is fine," she replied grabbing his shoulder when his balance wavered. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern etched in her eyes.

"I'm fine," he replied giving her a forced smile.

"Are you sure?"

"What's the hold up," Tony called before McGee could answer, snatching the keys from Ziva's hand. "Thank you."

Ziva flashed McGee one final look before turning to Tony and saying, "If you are going to drive you could at least ask for the keys."

"But taking them from you is so much more fun."

They continued to bicker back and forth on the drive back to the naval yard, McGee making an effort to ignore them. A dull ache was slowly building up across the left side of his skull, right behind his eye. He settled his head against the window, breathing through the pain.

Tim didn't know when exactly he fell asleep, but one moment he was dreaming of Oompa Loompas kicking him the head and the next he was being shaken awake by Ziva. Except his dream seemed to have followed him back to reality, his head feeling as if it _had_ really been kicked several times by small, green haired, orange men.

"Are you…?" Ziva started to ask.

"I'm fine," he snapped, a little harsher than he wanted, and pushed the door open. He wavered for a second, grabbing the door to keep his balance. When he regained his composure, he snatched his bag from the van and headed toward the elevators in the garage, Tony and Gibbs already gone.

He let the retinal scanner scan his eyes, the laser not helping his headache at all, his stomach swooping with the pain. He breathed through the nausea, closing his eyes, barely noticing Ziva coming up behind him.

"McGee, you are obviously not fine," she said gripping his elbow when he started to waver again. She guided him onto the elevator, settling him against the wall. "It is okay, McGee," she said, her voice sending a sharp pain through his head. He barely kept a hiss at bay, gripping his head between his hands.

The elevator started moving under his feet, his headache slowly ebbing away again. It was once again a dull throb by the time the elevator dinged and the doors opened. McGee carefully opened his eyes, Ziva flashing him a worried look.

"I'm fine," he answered her unasked question. "Just a headache," he reassured her as he stepped out of the elevator. He headed toward his desk, Tony watching him and then Ziva, and barely sat down when Gibbs said, "McGee, go take the evidence to Abby."

"On it, boss," McGee said picking his bag up and heading toward the back elevators. He jabbed one of the buttons, waiting for the doors to open, slipping into the car when they parted. He pressed Abby's floor, the doors closing, and the elevator started moving.

As he rode down, the lights jabbed at his eyes, his dull ache getting worse. He rubbed the sides of his head, hoping it would help him-it didn't. He would have taken more Tylenol, but he had a feeling if it didn't work the first time it probably wasn't going to work this time.

The ding was like another kick to the head, he whimpered in pain, nearly falling out of the elevator car. He grabbed the edge of the car, resting his head against the cool metal, trying to keep his stomach contents in his stomach.

He stumbled out of the elevator, the doors colliding into his shoulders, and moved toward Abby's lab. Her music nearly killed him as he tripped over the threshold, a voice piercing his aching head as it said, "About time you…

"Oh my God!" Tim groaned in pain at the alarmed shout, his stomach churning so severely he knew he wasn't going to keep himself from vomiting. Sure enough, he barely made it six steps into Abby's lab before he fell to his hands and knees, his meager breakfast splattering across the floor.

His pain spiked again, McGee retched once more, his limbs shaking. His arms gave out, but before he could face plant with his stomach contents, hands were lowering him to his side. He could smell the sour bile, his stomach churning again. He gagged, groaning when the action sent another spike of pain across his skull.

He wondered if he were dying. It sure felt like he was dying. He tried to tell Abby-who he could only guess was helping him-to call an ambulance. But he just couldn't get the words out. To be honest, he wasn't sure he wanted to speak at all. Speaking would cause noise and noise would make his head hurt more. And he didn't want his head to hurt more.

In fact, all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball (which he did because Abby wouldn't judge him) and cry (which he didn't do because he knew it would get back to Tony somehow). Or he hoped he wasn't crying because that would be embarrassing, especially in front of Abby.

'_God, you could be dying and you're thinking about embarrassing yourself in front of Abby. _That _makes sense,'_ a small voice, sounding almost exactly like DiNozzo, said sarcastically. _I'm dying and the last voice I hear is Tony DiNozzo? Are you fricking kidding me?_

"Timmy, you aren't dying," Abby's voice said quietly above him. He wasn't even aware he had been talking the whole time. "It's a migraine." _A migraine? Really? _"I'm going to turn the lights down, just sit tight." The music stopped, the room dimming behind Tim's eye lids.

"Here," Abby's voice said. Tim's head was painfully picked up then settled down onto something soft. The noise it made didn't hurt his head, but it did tell him it was Bert. He buried his face into the hippo, his pain slowly ebbing away again.

"I don't have anything for you," Abby said and Tim could almost hear her lip tucked between her teeth. "But I can get some."

"No," he groaned, blindly reaching out and grabbing her arm…or leg. He grabbed something.

"But…"

"D…don't leave…" Tim trailed off, his head pounding again. "Please…"

"Okay." He could feel more than see her lower herself to the floor, her fingers hesitating before running through his hair. Since his headache, migraine, started this was probably the best he had felt.

"Timmy," Abby whispered some two minutes later. "Do you think you can handle moving to my office? You're taking up a lot of room."

Tim wasn't sure, but his pain wasn't as severe as before. He was going to try. So, he nodded once, pain spiking for a second, and attempted to get up. Moving, however, sent another spike of pain through his head.

"Here, I'll help," Abby offered getting to her feet. She took hold of his arm, trying to pull him up. "Timmy, you have to help…" Tim tried to help, more pain nearly sending him to the floor again, but they both managed to get him upright.

The room spun for a second, McGee's legs shaking under his weight, and he leaned into Abby as she moved him toward her office. Once he was inside, she settled him into her chair.

"I'm getting my bedding for you," she told him quietly. McGee could hear her moving around for a few minutes, and then she returned to him. She helped him up. He tried very hard not to lean into her, and helped him shuffle over to the bedding.

"Just lay down," Abby said lowering him to the floor, Bert already waiting for his head. "You'll be okay, Timmy. I promise…"

**NCIS**

**The only reason I am writing this is because I have had a headache all day and I wanted someone to suffer with me... Mean, sure, but I love hurt McGee and I never said I was nice... I mean, I'm not mean, but I am not always nice... That made more sense in my head.**

** Besides, I am attempting to write a McAbby story ('attempting'****being the operative term). We'll see where this goes and let me know if I should continue.**

**I own nothing :)**

**Bye...**


	2. Chapter 2

Abby had switched her music over to her laptop, keeping it quiet so as to not disturb McGee. She glanced over her shoulder at the agent, who was curled on his side, head buried into Bert's coat. Earlier, Abby had accidently dropped something, the sound bringing McGee's migraine back full force. She had apologized several times, Tim trying and failing to push her apologies away. It was kind of hard to do when he was groaning between '_it's okay,' 'Don't worry about it, Abbs,' _and_ 'I'm fine.'_

Besides, Abby knew Tim was not fine, despite the many times he tried to convince her.

"Abby," a voice said from behind her. She jumped, turning on her heel, nearly falling. Gibbs placed her Caf-Pow on her desk top, catching her arm to steady her, letting go when he knew she wasn't going to hit the ground.

"Gibbs, you scared me," Abby said hurriedly. "I don't have your results, yet." She had been too busy haunting the morgue, looking for Ducky or Palmer, hoping one of them kept some migraine medication in one of the drawers. Neither did, but Ducky did send Palmer out to get some. Jimmy still wasn't back. "But I am working on it. And, it's only been twenty-five minutes. I'm not a miracle worker, you know? Despite what people say.

"Not that anyone has ever called me a miracle worker. I mean, I can't do everything, even though it feels like I do sometimes. But I will not ask for another assistant, not after Chip tried to frame Tony and kill me. No, no more assistants…"

"Abbs, have you seen McGee?" Gibbs questioned cutting her off.

Abby eyes flicked to her office before she met Gibbs', took a breath, and said, "Yes, I have."

"And where is he?"

"Now, don't get mad, Gibbs. There is a medical reason why…"

"Where is he?" Abby couldn't be sure, but she thought she caught a flicker of concern in Gibbs' eyes when she said 'medical.'

"Lying in my office," Abby replied slowly and lead Gibbs toward the sliding glass doors. "He has a migraine, Gibbs. It was pretty bad, still is…" Gibbs let his eyes settle on the baking soda covering the ground. Abby followed his gaze, really not wanting to think about that mess.

"It was nasty, Gibbs. But I think I got most of the mess…" the doors slid open, both Gibbs and Abby walking inside.

"Has Ducky checked on him?" Gibbs asked crouching down, next to McGee.

"He said he had a couple things to do and then he'd be right down. He did send Jimmy to get some migraine medication, but he hasn't gotten…"

"I got it," a voice shouted, Tim clamping his hands over his ears. Abby had actually thought he managed to fall asleep, guess she was wrong. "I had to go to four different stores, got lost on my way to the fourth, and…"

"Palmer," she hissed cutting him off, "sh. You are not helping Timmy's migraine."

"Oh, sorry, McGee," he said lowering his voice to a stage whisper. He held the bag out to Abby who snatched it from him. She then moved, Jimmy's eyes widening at the glaring Gibbs.

"Gibbs, hey. Uh, how long, how long have you…" Jethro merely pointed at the door. "Okay." And Jimmy scurried away, slipping in the wet, mopped up area. He shouted in surprised, slamming his shoulder into the wall, and collapsed on the ground.

"Jimmy," Abby exclaimed, in a semi-whisper, rushing toward Palmer. Jimmy was already pulling himself up, his face beet red, stammering apologies as he backed out of the lab.

Abby watched him go, torn between worrying about him and screaming at him, before turning around and heading back to Tim and Gibbs. The latter had his hand resting on the former's shoulder, while McGee was curled in a tighter ball with his eyes squeezed shut, breathing heavily through his nose.

"Timmy, are you okay?" Abby whispered crouching down next to Gibbs, running her hand through McGee's hair. Tim didn't respond, burying his face into Bert's side again. He flinched when the hippo made his signature noise, but kept his head where it was.

"McGee," Gibbs said softly, "do you think you can take some pills?" Very carefully, trying not to let the bag make a crinkling sound, Abby pulled a bottle of Motrin IB from the inside.

She pushed herself to her feet, heading toward the tiny fridge underneath the table behind her desk. She pulled out a bottle of water, moving back toward McGee. "Gibbs, can you help him sit up?" she asked kneeling next to Tim.

Jethro nodded, coaxing McGee into a seated position. In an upright position Tim paled drastically, his breathing quickening. Abby could tell her friend felt nauseous but was trying to keep himself from throwing up again. And he was actually succeeding until…

"Hey boss, did you find…?" Tony's cologne filled Abby's lab, the usual pleasant scent enough to push McGee over the edge. He gagged, Gibbs instinctively wrapping an arm around Tim's front as he listed to the side. Bile dislodged from his throat, splattering onto the floor, Gibbs' face, as usual, not giving away how he was feeling.

"That's unpleasant," Tony muttered backing up several steps, his face full of disgust.

"DiNozzo, go get Ducky," Gibbs snapped waving DiNozzo away.

"I…I'm fine, b…boss," Tim mumbled, gagging again, his face ashen and sweaty.

"Go," Gibbs said glaring at Tony, ignoring McGee.

"On it, boss," Tony said backing out of Abby's office, nearly running into the door. He turned, trying to hide his embarrassment, and headed toward the exit. Abby could see him ushering Ziva away, the latter's face a mask of barely concealed worry.

Once they were gone, and McGee stopped trying to bring up a lung, both Abby and Gibbs helped him to take his medication. Abby offered him the bottle of water, McGee taking a couple small sips to help aid the pills.

Once he was lying down again, turned on his side with his eyes shut, did Abby and Gibbs leave him alone. Abby left the door open, just in case Tim needed anything, and walked toward one of her lab tables.

"Ducky doesn't need to be down here right this second, Gibbs," Abby said collecting the sponge and bucket she used earlier. If it had been anybody else (Tony and Gibbs notwithstanding) she would have had them clean their own mess up, but her Timmy was sick, he needed her help, and despite the fact that it disgusted her, she was willing to clean up his mess.

Besides, he would owe her later. Big time…

"It's just a migraine," she continued walking back toward her office, careful not to disturb Tim. "I know how to handle these. I've had a few.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine…"

"Still let Ducky check him over," Gibbs pressed watching as Abby quickly cleaned up the mess. Once it was clean, Abby coaxing Tim onto his other side so the scent of the soap didn't trigger more nausea, she lead Gibbs back into the front portion of her lab.

"Fine Gibbs, but it's totally unnecessary."

And Abby was right, when Ducky wandered into Abby's lab some ten minutes later, already aware of what Tim was going through, he fixed Gibbs with a stare and said, "You shouldn't worry so much, Jethro." Gibbs didn't verbally respond, but he did semi-glare at his friend. "And don't give me that look.

"Leave the poor lad alone, he'll be fine once the bulk of the migraine passes. Okay?" he wasn't speaking to Gibbs or Ziva, so much as Tony. It would just be like DiNozzo to poke at McGee in his current state. And as much as Abby loved Tony, she couldn't help thinking how immature he could be sometimes.

It was quiet for a quarter of a second then Gibbs turned to Ziva and Tony and said, "Let's go. We've got a case to solve. And you," he pointed at Tony's retreating back, "leave McGee alone."

"I would never…" Tony started turning to look at Gibbs only to freeze at the look Jethro gave him. He turned back around and exited the lab, Ducky, Ziva, and Gibbs steps behind him.

Abby walked toward her office, stopping in the doorway to watch McGee. He didn't acknowledge her at first, but then quietly said, "I'm fine, Abbs."

Instead of pointing out her disagreement with his comment, Abby just sighed and said, "Call me if you need anything." She then turned and wandered back to her computers, continuing with her work…

**NCIS**

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts last chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed this one. And drop a comment if you can**

**I do not own these characters :(**

**See you...**


	3. Chapter 3

Tim felt slightly better when he opened his eyes, but his mouth still tasted like something died in it. He tried to sit up, but moving sent a spike of pain through his head. So, he stayed down, breathing in the scent of Bert-he smelled like Abby-surprised by how easily the scent calmed his stomach, helped his pain.

He heard humming, quiet humming, Abby humming. He peeked around Bert's fur, watching as Abby did her thing. She was running tests at a dizzying level and Tim wondered how she did it. How she kept up with everything. It had to be overwhelmingly stressful. Being an agent wasn't a cake walk, either, but McGee had a team to help him. Abby didn't. She did have Chip at one point, sure, but he turned out to be bat-shit crazy. Besides they did not talk about Chip, he was a subject better left in the past…

Abby stiffened, McGee knowing the jig was up when she turned slowly. He gave her weak smile and a wave. She crossed the room and knelt next to him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked curiously. "For real this time."

McGee thought about lying again, but knew Abby hated people who lied to her. So, he took a breath and said, "Kinda sick, my head hurts when I move."

"Has it gotten any better?"

"A little," Tim answered truthfully. And it had. The pain wasn't so intense anymore, and he was actually able to keep his nausea at bay. But he had a feeling he wasn't out of the woods just yet, it had only been a couple hours. More pain was definitely on the way.

"Well, I'm almost done for today," Abby said quietly. "And then I'll take you home."

"Almost done? What time…?" he lifted his arm, checking his watch. It was almost six. McGee balked at the time.

"I think you should take some more Motrin before we leave, McGee. And I borrowed Tony's sunglasses, just so your eyes won't be directly exposed to the sun. Oh, and I'll be staying with you tonight."

"Abbs, you don't…"

'Shh, Timmy," Abby said putting her finger to Tim's lips. "Talking won't help your migraine." With those words lingering in the air she returned to her work.

Some fifteen minutes later, Abby wandered back over to McGee with a bottle of pills in her hand. Very carefully, she helped McGee sit up, his head pounding. Once upright, Tim's stomach rolling, he leaned back against Abby's chest.

"Okay, Timmy, I need you to take these," Abby said quietly, shaking two pills out. The noise was killer on his head, but the pain was more manageable than before. He took the pills from Abby, knocking them back, using the nearly empty water bottle to aid them down.

"Okay," Abby mumbled pushing herself up, propping Tim against her desk. "Let me get Tony's glasses." She left him alone, returning not long after. She placed his NCIS cap on his head, handing over a pair of sunglasses.

"Does Tony know you have these?" he asked placing the glasses on his face.

"Maybe," Abby said, her eyebrows raised in wonder. McGee couldn't help flashing her a smile. Unfortunately it was his last one for a while.

As he and Abby went about getting him off the floor, they managed to stir up Tim's headache. He breathed deeply through his nose, his stomach doing somersaults, but he did not make a noise. Once he was standing, feeling lightheaded again, Abby leaned him against her desk.

"Stay," she said hurrying to collect her purse, both their jackets, Tim's bag, and to make one final check before returning to his side. "Okay, let's go." She wrapped her arm around Tim's waist, he draped his around her neck, and they carefully walked toward the exit.

Abby switched the lights off on their way out, telling McGee to duck his head as they stepped into the bright hallway. She guided him toward the elevator, pressing the button to call the car. They waited a few seconds, the doors opening to reveal Ziva.

"Abby, McGee," she greeted them before stepping forward and helping Abby move Tim into the car. "I was just coming down to check on you," she said to Tim.

"I'm fine," he muttered automatically, gently pulling out of their grips and leaning against the wall.

"No you are not," Ziva said just as Abby said, "McGee it's not good to lie."

"Where's DiNozzo?" Tim asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"Gibbs has had Tony questioning witnesses all day. He said it was for the case, and I agree it is, but I think it was more so Tony would leave you be."

"See Timmy, Gibbs did you a favor," Abby said smiling, Tim grunted in response.

"Are those Tony's glasses?" Ziva asked curiously, neither Abby nor McGee answering. The car lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

**NCIS**

Abby glanced over at Tim for the third time, wondering if he were asleep or not. Earlier she had noticed him flinch when a horn honked outside; he had tensed when a car backed fire half a block away. But he had gone quiet since then, head against the window, breath foggy the glass.

She left him be, concentrating on driving, and soon was pulling into his building's parking lot. She parked her car next to a green Nova, placed it in park, and shut the engine off. She placed her hand on McGee's shoulder quietly saying, "Timmy, you're home."

"I know," he responded and sat up, barely keeping another wince at bay. He opened the door, slowly getting out of the car, ducking his head as the slowly setting sun assaulted his eyes. Abby hurriedly copied him, shutting and locking her door before moving around the car to catch his arm as his balance wavered.

"Come on," she said locking and shutting his door, leaving all their stuff in the backseat. She'd get it later.

She helped her friend toward his apartment, wondering just how in the hell she was going to get him up four flights of stairs. _We'll cross that bridge when we get to it._

"Okay, Timmy," Abby said stopping at the steps. "Can you manage the stairs or do you…?" McGee pulled free from her loose grip, using the wall for a prop as he started up the steps. Abby watched him for a second, mumbling, "That works," before quickly followed him up.

Once in his apartment, McGee automatically headed toward the couch, but Abby grabbed his arm and guided him toward his room. "Do you want anything to eat?" she asked helping him out of his dress shirt. McGee shook his head, falling face first onto his bed.

"Okay," Abby responded pulling his shoes off. She picked Tim's blanket up off the floor, throwing it over his shoulders, McGee's face already buried underneath his pillows. "Call me if you need anything," she said quietly but didn't get an answer.

As she made to step out of the room, Tim called her back. She stopped, turning to see him staring at her. "Thanks," he said quietly. She nodded, stepping out of the room, leaving the door open a crack...

**NCIS**

**I know, kinda a stupid place to end it, sorry.**

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews, alerts, and reading last chapter. You guys are awesome.**

**So, I hope you enjoyed this, please review if you can, and I own nothing.**

**See ya in the next chapter :)**

**Bye...**


	4. Chapter 4

Tim woke to silent swearing. He cracked his eyes open, listening to Abby whisper, "Jethro, you scared me. Go lay down, I'm just using the bathroom." The door opened, Abby freezing when she noticed McGee's eyes open.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" she asked, her voice still low.

"No," Tim lied the pain in his head almost nonexistent. He wasn't sure if the bulk of the headache passed or if it were leading him into a false sense of security. But, at the moment, he didn't care. He was just happy to be pain free for the time being.

"Timmy, you're a horrible liar," Abby said moving past him, disappearing into his bathroom. "How are you feeling?' she called through the slightly ajar door.

"Better," Tim answered truthfully.

The toilet flushed, the water turned on, and soon Abby was walking out of the bathroom. "That's good," she said moving toward the door. "You want something to eat? You haven't eaten since yesterday."

"Yesterday?" McGee checked his watch, hating how he kept losing time. It was almost six.

"So, are you hungry?" Abby asked again.

"Yeah," Tim responded just as his stomach growled. He sat up slowly, testing his limits. Other than a slight twinge behind his left eye, he was actually okay.

"I can make you eggs or toast," Abby said biting her lip.

"Toast's fine," McGee replied trying to get out of bed. Abby pushed him back and said, "Stay. I'll bring it to you."

"Abbs, you don't…" she was gone before he could finish his sentence. He leaned his head against the headboard, closing his eyes. How could he be so tired, he had just woken up?

He must have dozed off, coming awake when Abby nudged his shoulder. He peeled his eyes open, a plate of toast under his nose. It smelt good, great actually. He sat up straighter, taking the plate from her. She walked around the bed, settling next to him.

As he took a bite of toast, Abby looked around the room and said, "You need a TV in here."

"No I don't," he answered slowly, finding a glass of milk sitting on the end table next to his bed. He picked it up, taking several sips, eating more toast.

"Yes you do. Or a radio, at least," Abby pressed. "I mean, you have a tiny TV in your living room/library/study/main area. I mean, you'd think you, of all people, would have a bigger TV."

"A, I'm not Tony. B, what does that mean? And C, I don't watch much television." Tim finished his toast and milk, setting both back on the end table.

"A, I know you aren't Tony. That would just be weird." McGee smirked at that. "B, you're a freaky genius with computers…"

"So are you…" he pointed out.

"…you'd think you'd get a big TV to watch. I mean, Star Trek marathons are on, Comin Con coverage, and, hell, there is an entire channel dedicated to SciFi. You should get a bigger TV."

"You make me sound like a dork, Abbs," Tim pointed out laying down, covering his face with his arm.

She chose not to respond to his comment, instead saying, "I never said you had to watch TV all the time. Just, with your video games, you'd think…

"Abbs," Tim lowered his arm, glancing at her, not liking her sudden tone. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," she said hurriedly, but her eyes told a different story.

"Abby…"

"Okay, so, I had Jimmy bring over his Wii. We were playing and the controller flew out of his hand…"

"Palmer broke my TV?" Tim asked slowly. _Damn Autopsy Gremlin._

_"_It was an accident," Abby responded sheepishly, shrugging. "And I swear, Jimmy will buy you a new one." Tim didn't verbally respond, instead shaking his head. Besides, he was too tired anyway. He closed his eyes, covering his face with his arm again.

"You should go back to sleep," Abby informed him after a few minutes of heavy silence. McGee could tell she still felt guilty for the TV incident. "I'll just go take Jethro for a walk…" he felt her move, but before she could get out of his bed he blindly grabbed her arm.

"You don't have to leave," he said with a sigh. "I know it was an accident. Besides, even if it wasn't, it was Jimmy's fault. We'll blame him."

"We shouldn't," Abby responded, but McGee could hear a smile in her voice.

"Oh well," Tim replied shrugging. He heard Abby giggle before planting a kiss on McGee's cheek. She moved to lay down, Tim moving his arm from his eyes to wrap it around her shoulder. He pulled her toward him, kissing her hair.

"I love you, Timmy," Abby whispered into his shoulder.

"Love you too, Abbs," he responded both drifting off to sleep seconds later…

**The End...**

**NCIS**

**Yep, that's about it. I wasn't attempting a shipping or anything, but if you see it that way then have at it :D Besides, ****fluff really isn't my thing, so if it's bad I'm sorry.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, thanks for alerting, making this your favorite, and/or reviewing. You guys are awesome :)**

**I own nothing and I've gotta go.**

**Drop a comment if you can**

**Bye...**


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